Preying Mantis
by RedStainedBlackWings
Summary: But just has he entrapped others, he himself would become tangled within his own webs. And when that happened, he fell the hardest out of all of us. And no one, not even himself, was bound by his webs more securely than me.  NnoiXTes


Chapter 1: Unsettling Uncertainties

I can't really say I know how things got to be this way, and I can't even say how it began. It's one of those situations that never seem to change over time, but if you look at the beginning and then at the end, it's a completely different monster. Sure, there were those few moments when I knew a step in an entirely different direction had been taken, but they don't even seem that drastic, as if we had been inching forward on a certain path all along without even realizing it. It was like a steadily evolving creature, something that addressed any unknown in its habitat with prideful confidence that it could carry on. And I just got caught up in the adaptations.

Thinking back, I don't know how it started. I guess the proper term to label it would be "captivation", but that isn't really my style. "Enthralled"? No… that still isn't to my liking. "Interested" is another term but that doesn't seem nearly as powerful as what I'm trying to convey… No… In all truth, he beguiled me. That's the exact word for it. But that's the exact reason I was so loyal to him, because he was so deceptive. The other Espada often equated him to a snake, what with his slender build and the habit for the lecherous commentary rolled off his lengthy tongue. But they knew nothing of the real Nnoitra Jiruga. The Nnoitra I knew was far from the slippery surreptitious serpent the outside world saw. If he was anything, he was a spider, a talented weaver able to ensnare anyone he chose to benefit himself, scuttling under and skirting rules and codes any honorable figure is expected to maintain. But just has he entrapped others, he himself would become tangled within his own webs. And when that happened, he fell the hardest out of all of us.

And no one, not even himself, was bound by his webs more securely than me.

0/0\0

I had watched him kill the others with my own two eyes. They had stood proudly before him, heads held high, chins up, backs straight, feet together, speaking their wish to join him in subordination.

And he had slain them with no more than a sneer.

I had watched the pretty white sand within Las Noches darken to a vivacious scarlet with the blood he spilt, following its path to where he would be, Santa Teresa still dripping. I had come to notice that he never wiped his blade after a fight, the memento of the stain his own little warning, the bright colors of a noxious frog, the rattle on a snake, the patterning on a spider.

I never directly approached him, but I knew he was fully aware of my persistent presence. He would cast me glances, glares for the most part, but never questioned my identity or objective. I was tolerated, and that was good enough for me. I had heard what he was capable of and had witnessed enough to know he was not to be taken lightly. Even if only ranked eighth among the Espada, he was a force to be reckoned with to all outside eyes, a force that brought the weak to their knees and the strong to throw down their gauntlets.

But his strength was not the reason I kept my distance. No, it was uncertainty that reserved me to the sidelines of his existence. Because I knew the enormity of his weapon disguised something, that his Hierro, strongest of them all, was just a thick shell of protection. His crude language was a repellant, his looming presence a deterrent, everything about him was that of a crouching animal, snarling with fangs bared and claws unsheathed. He wanted the attention of all and the interaction of none. He wanted their whispers of awe and gasps of fear at his passing, discarding direct complements and pleas for apprenticeship.

I did none of this. I was the silent observer, the watchful sentry, the Other, neutral and without intervention, reflecting what was transposed onto me. I was waiting, attempting to settle on a stable, concrete understanding before taking any further steps closer to him.

I could see everything the world saw; I understood the messages his body language conveyed. His outward appearance was one of a vicious warrior, willing to slash any throats or break any rules to achieve his personal goals, careless of the lives beneath his feet or on his blade. I saw what he wanted to be seen, viewing with the rest of the world as he brought himself up in the highest regard to be idolized.

But I had always had good eyesight, whether to pinpoint a Bala or catch the faintest alteration of an expression. And I was able to see something in Nnoitra that he had buried deeply among flashy shows of strength and violent swings of his blade. He was obscuring something somewhere within himself, beneath his thick skin, beneath his hidden eye, beneath his harsh linguistic patterns, beneath his long sweeping hair… Yet I could not identify the element he kept to himself, the marred parts of his soul that he seemed so keen on abolishing.

It was this uncertainty that kept me an observer. I was entranced by him, by the very essence of his being. Something about his way, the callous exterior providing a guise to insides that were raw, fleshy, and penetrable. Of this, I _was_ certain. Yet of what that penetrable part of him was constructed of, the part I knew no living being would ever witness, was what aroused my uncertainty. It was what first attracted me to Nnoitra Jiruga. That fleeting thought that, maybe, possibly, I could ease my uncertainty and be the one to expose the self he kept so carefully guarded. And if the world were forbidden to see it, simply my own eyes would suffice.

0/0\0

I had never considered myself special or unique. I was given a name, Tesla Lindocruz, and a number, fiftieth arrancar, upon creation, opening my eyes into a castle of eternal day within a world of eternal night. From the moment the majority of my mask was torn from my face, I had simply become aware, able to notice the details overlooked upon the quick summations made by my arrancar kin. Most were monstrous, something I found ironic. We spent our days as Gillian and Adjuchas, struggling to overcome our bestiality. Yet now, given forms close to humans by the Deus ex Machina of Aizen's hogyoku, many arrancar of formidable strength attempted to revert their bodies into something animal to match their power and personality. I found it laughable at times. Although most of their bodies had unnatural twists and torques or elongations that they had no hope in mending, others of nearly mistakable human anatomy wanted nothing more than to be beasts again. To revert to the very things we had come from… it almost made me sick at times.

"Yooooohhooooo!"

I could identify my caller without turning to face him.

"Oh? Ignoring me, Tesla? That's not very polite, you know."

"Can I help you, Szayelapporo?"

"Did something happen? You seem to be in a foul mood." He came to stand at my side, slouching against the railing I had been gazing over.

"I'm just thinking."

"Oh, right. Of course, how could I forget how stoic you become when lost in thought?" I caught a mocking grin out of the corner of my eye. He knew all to well how I detested being jarred from my musings.

I had never much cared for Szayel, his mannerisms evoking an instinct to flee within the deepest receptors in my mind. Yylfordt was far more tolerable than his younger sibling, yet I something about the Grandz brothers never sat well with me. I credited my unsettled feelings to the fact that I could never exactly determine what was turning over in Szayel's mind. The one thing I knew for certain was that he would enjoy nothing more than lashing me to a table and taking me apart from the inside out, studying what made me tick. If there was anything in his amber eyes, it was the thirst for knowledge and power obtained by gruesome methods that only he could stomach.

"So what brings you here?" I humored him with conversation, as he obviously had no intention of leaving me to return to my thoughts.

"The same reason you are." He leaned closer to me, his lips curled in a fashion to force me to suppress a shiver. "I'm stalking Nnoitra."

I fought the urge to sigh heavily and leave my place. "I'm not stalking him, Szayelapporo. That's quite the improper term."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that, Tesla. And you can just call me 'Szayel'. No need for formality until I'm an Espada."

"Let's not put the cart before the horse." I could do little to stifle the irate inflection that colored my voice.

"Oh, please, Tesla." He batted his hand lazily in my direction, resuming his casual slouch against the railing. I exhaled with relief at the widened distance between us. "You're fine with simply being a part of the Números, one the many pawns at Aizen's disposal. The highest you could achieve would be Fracción if you actually dedicate yourself to it, and I don't even think _that's_ in your mental capacity. You're just like Yylfordt, the scum." He dramatically brushed his hair away from his face, shaking his head slowly. "I, however," he raised his head with an arrogant smile, "have much bigger plans for myself."

"You've already told me. Don't waste your precious breath."

He gave a disgruntled huff and planted his hands on his hips. "So, Tesla, if you aren't 'stalking' Nnoitra, what _are_ you here for exactly?"

"Observation."

"Isn't that a synonym for stalking?"

I caught his gaze, his grin a playful taunt spreading across his face. I made a spontaneous decision, turned on my heels, and walked away. I was aware of the sardonic calls and witty words chasing after me, but I could care less. I had learned not to engage or become involved too deeply with those that I did not find to my liking, and by that ruling, Szayel was to be avoided at all costs.

0/0\0

He killed another.

I had witnessed the timid arrancar stand before him, mouth set in a hard line, brow furrowed in determination, feet planted firmly in the sand, plucking up more courage than he had to face his fear. And the poor soul was beheaded before the final words had left his mouth.

But for the first time, Nnoitra took a moment to stand over the body of his fallen victim, gazing down at the lifeless form with harsh scrutiny as if willing the corpse to speak. He raised and shook his head, hoisting his massive weapon over his shoulder, and began walking off it the wavering desert air.

It only took seconds, but it was within that small period of time that I knew the events of my future would not be as I had originally intended. With a clink of metal, Nnoitra unfastened his scythe from the chain at his waist, swinging the blade to whistle through the air. With the howl of the wind, he whipped it around his body and threw it in my direction. No… I was its intended target.

I threw myself to the ground, sand tossed into the air as the weapon sailed through my place and imbedded itself within the sand at my side. I raised my head, wildly searching for a recognizable direction before settling on Nnoitra's steadily approaching figure. I scrambled into the most dignified position I could manage, kneeling in the sand as he drew near enough to address me.

"You there! Brat!"

I sat a little straighter, the insult seeming to run down my spinal column and strike ever vertebrae into alignment. He ceased his steps before me, staring down with one squinting eye, meeting me with the same scrutinizing gaze he had directed at the corpse. I had never been this close to him and I was more than shaken by the daunting loom his height and slender build provided him with.

"What they hell do you think you're doing?"

Whether it was my fear or some deep instinct, I found myself unable and unwilling to open my mouth and answer him.

"I see you a lot, you know that, brat? Don't think I don't notice you always watching me." He slowly sunk to the ground, resting on his haunches, still gazing down at me. "What's your name, brat? Maybe I'll remember what to put on your tombstone."

I stared up at him, aware that I was a petrified fool, mute and immobile before him. Yet, unlike far weaker arrancar, my ineptness was not due to his crushing spiritual pressure. Had I wanted to, I could have risen to my feet and introduced myself with a shred of gravitas instead of remaining on my knees in the sand. I could have functioned had I wanted to, but for reasons I am still unable to identify, I was far too content to remain where I was.

His fist reared back and crashed across the left side of my face, throwing me into the air and sending me tumbling into the sand. I grunted as I fell still, vision swimming and fading in and out of blackness. I became aware of his footsteps somewhere beside me, along with the sound of metal being removed from confinement. I saw the curled toe of his boot come before my face, the shadow that fell over me distorting my vision further. My head throbbed, but I made no move to console myself. I remained still, the feeble attempts of prey to divert the predator's attention to something far more fresh and tasty. But Nnoitra was no foolish hunter.

"I asked you a question, bitch." He thrust his scythe into the sand beside my face, crouching down, his hand lazily holding onto the shaft of the weapon. "What's your name?"

I considered myself lucky that I had not bitten through my tongue or lost any of my teeth with the force of the blow that had driven me into the dirt, and I was still capable of forming words at all. I tilted my face out of the sand, catching his gaze and feeling far more inclined to speak.

"T-Tesla… Tesla L-L-Lindocruz…"

He gave a grunt and stood straight, keeping his gaze down upon me, his eye narrowing coldly. "I'll let you live this time, bitch. But don't expect me to be so nice next time. I wouldn't want your shitty blood all over my blade. I would never disgrace myself with something that low." He effortlessly raised his weapon over his shoulder and strut away off into the desert, leaving me with wide eyes and a hollow mind.

0/0\0

Had I stood among them, it would have seemed like a ripple, a steadily rolling wave that swept them all under its current. Like a flowing tide that refused to ebb, the whisperings spread, quiet voices and swift inclinations in my direction. I would have enjoyed being a part of the event, that uniform fugue of hisses and murmurs. But I was the epicenter of the quake and all of their hushed expressions of awe were directed at me. And although they did their best to mask it, I was completely aware of every word and whisper, every glance and stare. And I chose ignorance to carry me undisturbed through their undertow.

I refused to be caught within their dramatized perceptions, quickly making my way to the research facility Aizen had constructed for those arrancars of experimental proclivity. I had hoped the atmosphere would retain its usual scholarly tranquility, but every eye or optic organ was directed to my entrance and followed me with blatancy or stealth as I made my way to my claimed place within the laboratory. There was tension from those around me as I attempted to ignore the obvious stolen glances and obtrusive glares, my actions routine and meaningless as my attention was devoted to indirectly determining the cause for my sudden popularity.

It was a foolish notion for me to have believed I would have had to discover the cause for my prominence by myself. I could sense him sauntering over to me even before the click of his heeled boots alerted me of his approach. Once again, Szayel came to lean against the stainless steel table before me, reclining against his elbows and tossing his chin in the air.

"Well aren't you the celebrity today, Tesla?" He tilted his head to allow the light to reflect off the lenses of his glasses, blocking my view of his eyes. "Word on the wind is that you survived an encounter with Nnoitra."

"So what if I did?" I pulled my gloves firmly down on my hands, brow furrowed in my misfortune of having Szayel of all the arrancar feel obliged to inform me of my predicament. "I don't see what all of this fuss is about."

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Tesla." Szayel swooped his head in beside me, leaning over my shoulder with his lips at my ear. I forbid my body to react in any repulsion, clutching the table with my gloved fingertips. "No one, I repeat, _no one_, survives an encounter with Nnoitra. Now tell me…" He slowly brought his hand to lie against the back of my neck, forcing me to turn my head to meet his eyes. I received the impression of being memorized as his eyes raked across every inch of my appearance, taking every detail and every flaw into a mental account for further use whenever it was required. I grit my teeth behind closed lips, narrowing my eyes and willing him to see my displeasure. "Tell me how you survived."

"And what gives you the honor to know that?" I pressed my hand flat against his chest and shoved him back, turning to free myself from his grasp as he stumbled backwards. He gave breathy sigh at the realization of his supposed mistreatment and I wrinkled my nose in disgust of his behavior.  
>"I'm just asking what <em>everyone<em> wants to know!" He pressed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, allowing me to see the angered flash in his amber eyes. I was not in the least intimidated. All action had ceased around us, all educated curiosity subdued under the interest for gossip.

_They're just like the humans they claim to hate so much_.

"So, Tesla, you know the rules." Szayel tilted his head to me yet allowed his eyes to sweep around the room, engaging our observers and piquing their interest even further. Without chains or fetters, he had entrapped me in the situation. "When one of us makes a discovery, it's only proper for him to share his breakthrough with anyone that has similar interests. After all," he incline his head in my direction, the shadows deepening around his eyes, "it's only proper to assist our comrades if we have common goals."

In more ways than one, Szayel was nothing more than a spoiled child. He wanted answers, posing as being philanthropic for the sake of our entire cause, but I could see the devious glint in his eyes as his snide grin cracked across his face. And when it came to information, Szayel always got what he wanted.

And I could not resist smirking as tens of expectant eyes ravenously awaited my response. "You wanted to know how I survived?" I allowed myself a short humored sigh through my nose. "I just responded as my instincts told me to. It's a shame that not everyone's instincts react to stimuli the same way." I locked Szayel's gaze, pleased to see the slightest, irked furrow between his meticulously sculpted eyebrows. "How unfortunate for you, _Szayel_. Should you encounter Nnoitra, there is quite the probable chance that you will not fare the same as I did."

"Incompetent fool," Szayel hissed under his breath, hands clenching at his sides. I patiently waited for his next assault, passive or otherwise, curious as to what his response would be under the bated gazes of our fellow scientists. He abruptly turned on his heels and walked off, walking through the parting gaps of the other arrancar to make his way towards the exit. I was far from the fool he believed I was to think for a moment that I had disgraced his precious existence without any form of scathe. He would find a proper form of vengeance and exact it in due time.

Gradually, far too gradually for my preferences, interest returned to specific tasks and experiments. The tense silence was carefully replaced with typical dulcet cacophony of the lab instruments, the clink of beakers, the hiss of burner flames, the bubbling of unidentified and caustic liquids, the scratching of writing implements on paper, the murmurs of observations expected and surprising. Surveying the scene until all eyes had ceased snatching glances and wandering my way, I found myself blank of motivation once all others had rekindled theirs. Sighing in defeat and not just a slight amount of frustration, I stored away the few instruments I had managed to retrieve and walked from the laboratory, collecting eyes along the way.


End file.
